Understanding Batman For Dummies
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: The newest addition to the For Dummies series, Dick Grayson takes the time to explain his mentor to the world.
1. Introduction

**Understanding Batman for Dummies **

**Written by Dick Grayson**

**Chapter 1: Introduction **

Hello and welcome to "Understanding Batman for Dummies" although this isn't a place, I can't see you and technically I can't welcome you if neither situation applies. I wrote this story (well, it's a book that I made over the computer for an English project we had to do where we 'pretend that we understand a famous person', so I typed it and eventually edited it for your enjoyment, but you get the idea) to finally help people to stop pausing their TV during a live show to Google why Batman did whatever he just did.

I don't see why people have the need to Google "Why did Batman wink at Robin when he said '[Insert stupid short quote here]". They don't even spell it right half the time! They always forget a question mark, I often become 'Ribin' across the search engines, they don't put proper quotation and so forth. Would it kill you to even _try _to spell it right? SERIOUSLY!

All other points aside, in this book, I'll take you through all I've come to understand about my beloved mentor, 'father', coach and guardian. By the end of this, you'll understand what a glare with a faint smile means and how setting a hand to my shoulder can turn a complete insult into a heartwarming compliment.

By this point, the majority of you fangirls (and fanboys despite the fact that even fanboys are still called fangirls) are thinking, "Why would you write a book that reveals the identity of Batman?" Well,-… um… It's not like anyone's really going to read this, right? The second Bruce even sees the title of this, he'd have my laptop and everything in it burning deep down in Tartarus or some place similar.

So just shut up and enjoy it while you can.

Sincerely,

Robin

_Dick Grayson_


	2. The Costume

**I know the ()s are annoying. Live with them. When writing a school paper, I've never seen anyone put a [1] or anything higher. It's always these and no matter how annoying it is, I'm trying to be realistic. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Costume<strong>

If you want, you can skip this chapter. It just explains my dearest Daddy-Bats' costume choice, like why he picked a bat and why everything is arranged like it is. I wouldn't blame you if you skipped it, but I worked hard on this so if you read it, thank you. If you're only reading for the reason he picked a bat, skim through the paragraph titles. Or you could just be normal and read all the way through. I really couldn't care less.

_The Utility Belt_

If you have even half a mind, I'm sure you've wondered how a batarang (14 inches long from tip-to-tip) can fit in the tiny pockets of our utility belt (which is barely six inches in length), same with our 5 inch in width batbombs and the 3.5 inch diameter of the pouch. When I first saw, before I was ever a Robin to begin with, I always wondered and now that I know, I feel stupid for wondering in the first place.

First, I must dismiss the more popular of your ideas that are… well... ridiculous.

My favorite one is that we use shrink rays. All you have to do is think about that one to know that it's not even slightly possible. Shrink rays are pretty big in case you haven't seen a movie in a couple decades and I've never heard of an unshrink ray. I'm sure if there really was a shrink ray that it'd probably have a 'reverse' button like in _Phineas and Ferb_, but until the day we find one small enough to fit in the belt, we don't use them. It'd take too much time to unshrink what we need anyway.

Another one I _really _like is the Mary Poppin's bag idea. Some people think that we have bottomless magical pockets in other words. No, we do not. If one pocket could hold the jet, we'd only need one pocket so we'd bring a satchel, fanny pack or some other girlish accessory instead of a utility belt. I don't think the mighty Dark Knight would look very dark with a black purse over his shoulder. Even if he did, he'd probably be given some nickname that hundreds of people would be mortally wounded for using. (Batman doesn't like to kill people if he has the choice).

Here's the real explanation though, simplified so even morons like Wally can understand. You've seem those little lawn chairs that fold up really easy, commonly used in places near water or an outdoor movie projector, right? That's how the objects work, give or take a bit more complications.

Batbombs, before pressed and activated, are actually pretty small. They're bigger than your thumb print, but just barely that. They're kind of like Grow Monsters, those creepy sponge things you put in water and then they grow '500% bigger' although it doesn't even look half of that, just take away the water and sponge factor-… scratch all that. The point is, I tap it once and it grows bigger; I tap it a second time and it'll explode. I can fit at least 26 in one pocket while Batman can fit nearly 40. I stopped asking how a long time ago.

Batarangs fold up and in. They're kind of like paper, only their cuts are a lot more painful, they give off gas to knock you out and they're a lot heavier. Okay, maybe I suck at comparing weapons to objects you'd know, but you get the point. They fold up, turn in, tuck in and end up just barely fitting. We can only hold about 7 or 8, due to width, but we don't need a lot of them. One or two is usually enough per mission.

The TASER folds over in half, locking when you snap it upright. It doesn't fold in an exact half, but the extra space makes it easier to get in and out. The pocket beside it has a few reloads for it, but they're rarely used. We _would _have normal guns or tranquilizer darts, but Batman gets all angry and defensive when it comes to anything that fires lead… guns. He doesn't like guns. Forget the lead thing.

If you watch on TV, I'm sure you've noticed a lot of weaponry, but if I explained all of the contents of the belt and how they fit, I'd take up several books that would never be read and that'd be just a waste of my effort.

The Cowl 

A lot of people have asked me, "Robin; you wear a small little mask. Why does Batman wear one that takes up almost all of his face?" and to it I respond, "If you haven't figured it out by now, go crawl back to the rock you've been living under for the past few years." I don't really say that, but you can imagine if I did? Agh, reporters would _hate _me… which actually isn't a bad idea…

The point is that the reason is simple: he wants to keep his identity a secret and the fact that the ears are similar to those of a bat, matching with his name. Back to the identity thing though; the less of his face you see, the less of a chance people have of identifying him. Now you can go feel stupid under your rock with the rock people you call friends. Tell the prettiest one I said hi. Tell the ugliest one I didn't say hi. It's what they get for being rock people. COME JOIN THE REST OF THE WORLD, YOU PANSIES. Oh wait- _pansies _are pretty.

The Cape

You've seen the Incredibles right? I know I did. I wouldn't wear my cape for six months and when I eventually had to, I'd drop to my knees and hide every time a plane passed overhead. I was 10 though. SHUT UP. It was scary back then! Batman didn't think so, but he's not afraid of anything. He's Batman!

He wears the cape for one of the same two reasons he wears the cowl: to look more bat-like. Other than that, you have to admit it makes him look _really _cool… running down the road after the baddies, his eyes in narrow slits behind the cowl, his cape flying behind him like wings… It even _sounds_ cool! He probably also wears it so that when we're creeping after the baddies in the cool warehouses they don't see us hiding in the shadows until it's too late.

The Body/Chest

I know, this doesn't need to be explained, but I figured that even the easy parts of the costume deserved mention… except for the gloves, boots and pants because I really don't feel like explaining those. The torso of the costume is easy. The bat symbol just identifies him so enemies or fans won't have to wait until someone yells, "Damn you Batman!" resulting in an echous "Ohhh!" that symbolizes understanding.

The straps hold it in place and when undone in the right order help him get out of the bulletproof fabric. The only difference is probably the fact that it isn't pure spandex like the rest of our outfits. You can still see almost everything underneath, but it isn't as tight so he has more protection. I _would _have the same fabric, but tight spandex makes me feel sexy and someone as old as Batman (no offense) doesn't need to be squeezed that tight. It probably isn't good for anyone to be squeezed that tight, but people do stupid things for beauty… as you already know.

The Story Behind the Bat

This isn't his past, not yet anyway, so don't get your hopes up. This little section will just tell you what _I _know on why he's _Bat_man instead of something cooler. Once again, no offense, but that name's pretty lame… I have no room to talk though. I have a chick's name. But this is understanding the Bat, not his dumb little birdy.

Anyway, this version was told to me by Alfred who you'll learn more about later when we get to Bruce Wayne. (Spoiler Alert: Batman is Bruce. WOAH! BIG SURPRISE!) I would ask Bruce himself for the accurate story, but he doesn't like talking about this stuff. He's surprisingly pretty shy around me, but you wouldn't know it unless you knew us personally. Anyway, here it goes:

One day after Bruce had graduated college, he had been up in his study brainstorming a costume because even then, he knew he wanted to be a superhero to save the world from people like the man who shot his parents (once again, refer to later chapters for more information). He had already figured out the bulletproof idea but back then, he had wanted a domino mask similar to mine. Apparently, he had his window wide open while he worked because 'the warm air helped him think'. While working, I guess a bat fluttered in. Bruce 'freaked out' (which gives me reason to think the story's a little fibbed but I would never say so to my dearest Alfred) and he shooed it out as fast as he could.

The bat was in his head so he drew it out: the cape with the jagged claw-like edges that could be held for gliding, the cowl with the ears to better hide his identity, the cartoon bat symbol to be on his chest; everything else kind of just fell onto the paper until there was a younger Batman in the study.

I don't believe it either, but I can't think of any other explanation so I'd just go with it. Maybe it was dark when he had his window open and the bat accidentally flew in? I've never seen a bat around the Manor and trust me, I've looked. There's nothing else to do around here... Why else do you think I'm writing a "For Dummies" book?

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><p><strong>I don't think this will get popular, but I don't care. I mean, I do care, I love reviews! It's just… I came up with this while watching the Super Bowl… and my Super Bowl KFRob chaptered story coming up… Look out for that if you're interested. Or not. Next… should be… the secret language of eyes, looks, smiles, nods and such. Yay. Language of the birds. Damn. Bats aren't birds. Don't worry, I'll get this… **

**-F.J. **


	3. Body Language

**I'm probably the only wimp in the world who sobs at having to take a pill. I HATE PILLS. I just _know _my throat's going to close up around it and I'm going to choke… My eyes hurt, my stomach burns… I hate pills. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Body Language<strong>

A lot of people have wondered how Batman and I can communicate without saying a single word so I figured it's high time (or however you'd say that) that I explain. It's actually pretty simple if you take the time to watch, but people have gotten increasingly lazy as time's gone on so I'll make it easier.

Some people think we're always angry before we go off to fight which is why we always split up and keep quiet, but I don't think I've ever been genuinely angry with Bruce. I get jealous when he gives other people the attention I deserve (I am his technical son, after all, so I deserve the majority of his love), but I've never glared at him with foul intentions. He's my replacement daddy until the day one of us dies, and even after then, so it's my responsibility to love him. That may sound cruel the way I phrase it, but understand that he wasn't my first choice for a dad. The man I wanted to be my dad died the day the woman I wanted to be my mom did… but this isn't about me! Damnit! Someone help me stay on topic!

Lips

You probably think this is stupid. You probably think, "A frown means he's angry and a smile means he's happy", right? Well, you'd be wrong. Way wrong. That's why I need to explain this to you. There's a lot I need to explain if that's your thinking. Batman functions backwards, if that makes sense, so this might take a bit of effort to get through your heads.

A frown can mean a million things when it's Batman. He's always frowning in case you didn't notice because it makes him look stronger, braver and makes people respect him. Even though a frown's on his lips when he looks at me, if his eyes are wider than he's actually smiling at me in his own way. If his eyes are narrowed, I obviously either pissed him off or he has something up his sleeve and the narrowness is just his version of a mischievous twinkle.

A smile either means you should take refuge in a nearby bomb shelter or you should run for your life. Nothing can protect you from Batman when he's on one of his man-periods. There are those moments though when his smiles are genuine, loving and happy though, no matter how extremely rare they are. When he smiles, I have the urge to catch a rainbow in a bucket and beat down the criminals who didn't get busted with it. I could easily do that with a regular bucket, I know, but a rainbow would just give it a happy and magical feel that a normal bucket could never do. The only way you can tell the difference is by checking his fists, his eye slits and his stance.

When his lips are drawn back in a growl where his teeth are grinding together and his jaw is locked… Either he's close to crying (which has never happened in my lifetime but I'm sure it'll happen some day), he's ready to break someone's back over his knee and then feed the insides to homeless orphans before he snaps their necks and pushes them through a meat grinder and seasons them with the finest of peppers before serving it up to people who are allergic to those peppers or he just wants to mess with you and scare you. It's usually that last one though. Similar to his smile, just check how the rest of his body relates to the growl and you'll easily identify what he's doing.

If his lips are ever silently moving, but you can't understand what he's saying, chances are he's talking to himself. When Batman talks to me, he never needs to open his lips. That just isn't needed between us. He's usually just commenting on the battlefield or making mental notes, possibly prepping himself for what he's about to brief us on. He doesn't want to sound clueless like the rest of us, now does he? … Why am I asking you? You don't know my mentor.

Eyes

I'm one of the few people that has ever seen Batman's eyes and recognized them, mostly because of the white eye covers, but even if you can't see his eyes, you can figure out what they say. His mask, similar to mine, melds right over his eyes so when his eyes move, the eye holes move in sync. To avoid awkwardness, I'm just going to refer to the eye covers as his eyes.

When his eyes are 'widened' if you would, they're really just normal size meaning… well, it depends on the lips. If he's frowning, he's bored. If he's smiling, he's happy. If he's growling, he's surprised. You get the idea, right? Wider eyes mean everything's normal and I have nothing to worry about. If he looks at me with wide eyes and a frown, he's promising me everything's okay; when it's a smile, he's silently saying he's proud of me or something similar; when he's growling it probably means he doesn't approve of what I'm doing but he doesn't have the heart to yell at me.

When his eyes are narrowed, he's either glaring, intimidated, jealous, curious, happy, bored, angry or silently asking someone to repeat what they said in simpler terms. When he glares at me, he's usually telling me to shut up, split up, do whatever he's thinking at the moment or he's wishing me luck and telling me how he's proud of me. Well… that last one, he doesn't do… but I can pretend it…

When his eyes are inhumanly wide, which is ever so rare on him, he's probably scared. I don't mean "Holy Shit, That's a Flying Five-Assed Dino!" scared either. I'm talking about the kind of fear that comes when you see the butler you've come to consider your father and the ward you've come to consider your son get beaten and injured in front of your eyes and you just know that there's a big chance that they could die from it.

When he had no eye holes, his eyes are closed. Do I even need to explain this one? He's probably blinking, sleeping, face-palming or hiding pain when you can't see the white.

Of the eyes, you'll usually see my Caped Crusader with narrowed eyes. He's usually in a bad mood, seeing how bad he is with kids and the fact that he's leader of a whole team of ones (especially KF *cough, cough*). He has to seem scary to the rest of the League too, so there's a good excuse on his part as to why his eyes are always those cool little upside down triangles.

Contact

I'm not referring to Homeroom, that crappy movie from a while ago, another name for the people in your phone book or those lenses you put in your eyes to replace glasses. No, I'm referring to touching, like fistbumps, high-fives and attention starved desperate hugs to get your friend's attention despite the fact that he sees the exact same thing you do so you have no reason to point it out over his shoulder and totally burst his bubble even though he secretly enjoys the company.

Batman doesn't do a lot involving contact, especially when I'm in the conversation. He's got it up in his head that I don't want a second father to replace the one I lost four years ago (almost five now!) so he always keeps his distance and doesn't do a lot of the touchy-feely stuff. The most he does is putting a hand to my shoulder, patting my back and those rare times he tousles my hair that makes me grin ear-to-ear like the little kid I am behind this uncomfortable mask. Little contact means a lot to me though, and to him.

If he says, "I'm not happy with this" with narrowed eyes, a heavy frown _and _a hand on my shoulder, looking me in the eyes, he's actually saying that he's proud of me and the only reason he's saying he isn't happy is because another League member is around and if I want to do it again, I should be more careful.

If he has his hands at his side, not touching me in the slightest, his eyes looking away from me as he says, "Good job", he's actually insulting my skill and silently suggesting I fix whatever it is that he didn't approve of. Even if he's smiling while he says it! If he isn't touching me, it's a simpler way of him using sarcasm. It hurts worse to get a compliment from him than an insult!

If he tousles my hair which I guarantee you'll never see in your lifetime unless stalkers find a way into the Manor and film us in our lives outside of spandex, it means he's happy. Not in general; it means he's happy that I'm his 'son', happy that we're there in that moment, happy I found out he was Batman… He doesn't even have to smile with it to make me blush like a crushing Kindergartener, wanting to teeter on my toes and flail my arms, giggling excitedly that I reminded him on the fact that I'm not so bad.

Stance

In case you didn't know, stance refers to how one stands in general. Now that that's been clarified/cleared and such, allow me to explain this stuff too.

If his hands are in fists, I recommend you stop whatever it is you're doing. The fists silently say that if you don't stop, you're going to be hit; hard. Or he's going to yell at you. Or he's going to use his nonexistent laser beams to melt you into ash. If he's smiling with fists, I'd hate to be in your position. If you pissed off my daddy enough to make him _smile_, you'd better start digging your own grave as fast as you can. I recommend Gotham Cemetery. They keep that place clean, neat and they respect your graves better than most places probably do.

If he's standing tall, hands unclenched, face calm, he's surprised or impressed, both of which are very similar in appearance. Carefully examine his eyes to check. If one eye is wider than the other, he's impressed. I try not to notice when he's impressed, though, because if you haven't noticed, I have a jealousy issue. I punch concrete walls and obsessively repeat what he said until I can take the pain like a man.

If he's slouching or anything similar, he's in trouble. He's either in severe pain, about to take off running into the shadows or he's literally got something up his sleeve and you're about to take it to the street. Bruce is strict on posture so if he isn't upright, you have reason to fear the turbulence up ahead.

If his arms are crossed over his chest, he can be any emotion. If he's smirking, he's amused. If he's smiling, he's feeling cocky because of something that's about to go down. If he's frowning, he doesn't approve. If he's growling, he's either angry or suffering heartburn.

You get the basic idea, right? I mean, it's not that hard! If you can just learn to check his hands, his eyes, his lips and his posture-… never mind. Learning to speak Batman is like trying to learn German. A few phrases stick right off the back, like _meine, mein, Freunde, freundin, freund _and _Guten Tag_. Everything else just sounds like throaty mumbles until you've mastered every delicate syllable… Good luck with that. It's taken me four years and I'm still clueless on most of it.

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><p><strong>What's next? Should I go to his mood? Attitude? Past? Please review~<strong>

**-F.J. **


	4. Attitude

**She's such a tease… inviting me as her date to a double date… flirting heavy with me… stealing my breath than ruining it all… And she's still so irresistible to me… Every adorable smile makes me want to brush my hair back behind my ears and blush until my face explodes from the heat… makes me want to pull her into my arms, despite her discomfort, and hug her until… until my heart can breathe again on its own without her having to be the reason it beats faithfully… One day I'm going to regret writing all this, but it's fun to go back for the memories… **

"_Either they're watching the Batman or they're getting giggity!" *Na, Na, Na, Na, Na, Na~* _

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Attitude<strong>

I could almost say I didn't need section dividers for this chapter, but seeing that I live with and love this Bat, I know he has two in particular. He doesn't change when he's with certain people; he doesn't change if he's in a certain place; he doesn't change during certain events…

No. The man who acts like the sun to my world, the one that I revolve around no matter how unwillingly, changes with his outfit. You could call him bipolar or say he suffered from multiple personality disorder (even though there's only two personalities), but Batman and Bruce are _nothing _alike, at least to me, which is why I believe people will never figure out that they're the same person. In my opinion, he's the best actor that's ever walked the land, between those discovered and those not.

Batman 

Because I'm saving the best for last, I want to get the one identity that I hate most out of the way. I honestly have nothing against Batman, but I prefer him without the cowl and cape. This section is about the… I don't want to say 'beast that lives within him', but that's the only way I can describe the Dark Knight without sitting down to hardcore think about it.

On the battlefield with the team, with me or just briefing us all on the mission, he isn't too much different. His mood lightens and darkens with my appearance in his picture frames, but that doesn't affect his attitude all too much. Enough rambling though. Let's just get what you need for your research papers or why ever you're reading this.

On the field… Batman is a monster. He's not the kind of monster you grow up thinking is always going to be slumbering under your bed and in your closet behind your clothes during the day that comes out only at night to munch on your face, giving you horrible acne.

No, he's the kind of monster your mom brings home after she divorces your real dad who tries to become your new dad by being friendly to you and trying to love you three times more than you needed from anyone who's actually related to you and he never gives up until he and your mother get it on and bring you a new brother after which he starts working every night and going away on long business trips so you have to take over to help your mom raise your new brother.

Reading that, you probably disagree with every last little word, but let me explain the confusing explanation.

By saying he's a step-dad, I mean he's just a change from what you're used to. When one thinks of a dad, one customarily thinks of a man who's supposed to love his children, kiss them goodnight, drive them to their friends' houses on the weekend, teach them how to hunt and fish, watch scary movies with them in the dark and stuff like that. Now, replace 'dad' with 'hero'. Heroes are supposed to be happy, kind, caring and all that stereotypical stuff you read about in the comics. Batman isn't 'happy' or bright. No, Batman is similar to a ninja fart: silent and deadly.

By saying he's 'friendly'… Well, Batman is not friendly. He's intimidating in all aspects of the word. The only time he's actually 'friendly' is either when I'm involved or some child younger than 10. His suit isn't adorable-proof. (I just realized I called myself adorable. Don't deny that you just wanna pick me up and hug me until I'm a pancake! It's not self-absorbed if you guys agree!)

By saying he never gives up, I mean just that. The saying "stubborn as a mule" should be updated to "stubborn as Batman" because once that man has made his mind, he's made it and _nothing _will change that. Being "The World's Greatest Detective", he follows every clue to its grave; every hunch to its birthplace; every suspect to their breaking point. Even after everyone else had last their last breath of hope, he was still hungrily feeding from his IV, energy pumping eagerly through his bloody veins straight to his over-abused heart.

I'm not sure what I really meant by the new brother. Maybe I meant me. Before Batman 'saved me' if you would, he was a lone hero and the others had grown to it just being the Caped Crusader. When I came along, I stole him away, replacing their beloved Dark Knight with a Dynamic Duo who only showed half of the time the regular Detective ever did. And my mom getting giggity with him probably referred to how life screwed her and dad over because it wasn't until after they died that Batman was left with little bothersome me.

On the whole business trips, I mean just that. As the pull-ups commercial famously sings, "I'm a big kid now!" so he's slowly going back to leading the League with Superman serving at his side. I still see him time-to-time in cape and cowl, but I'm mostly stuck with 'mom', who's either Black Canary, Red Tornado or Kaldur.

On a lighter note, I should mention the good parts to Batman…

He works hard and long, seemingly putting the lives of innocent strangers above his own every day as he risks the life he so delicately pieced together for those whose names he'll probably never learn. He fights hard and rough, never letting his flame die out until the Dementor-like teasing seductions of unconsciousness suck the life straight from his lips. Ha, look at me, all poetic! TAKE THAT MRS. WHALEN! I _AM _GOOD AT POETRY!

In times of crisis and fear, he can hold a strong and brave face that can dry a few tears from any one's eyes, no matter how chicken they are at heart. In the greatest of panics, all he has to do is play lion and let out a mighty roar and all of us zebra out on the plains immediately shut up and hide behind one another in fear of being eaten.

Bruce Wayne

And now the best act is waiting behind the curtain, eager to perform. Aw, here I go, my words all musical! Why can't I feel this way in school? Bruce is better known for being a Playboy billionaire and the main beneficiary of Wayne Tech, giving out free scholarships to deserving kids and for having adopted the 'sole survivor of the Grayson accident' back in 2007.

I know Bruce as my surrogate father and my guardian so my views of him are probably a bit more… oh damn, what's the word? Starts with a b… means I see him differently than the rest of the world… biased! That's the word… I'm more biased of him, and in the good way… sometimes.

First let's get the bad out of the way so I can end on a good note.

Being in charge of a huge corporation and scarred from a bad past, I never see Bruce. He's always away on business and sometimes, at least from what I've overheard Alfred and Bruce discuss under their breath when they think I'm asleep, he leaves just because he doesn't want to smother me… Smother? He'd actually have to get close to smother me!

Seeing that with the simplest addition of a cowl he's suddenly the Dark Knight, he drills me just as hard as Batman would. The only muscles I can sprain with Bruce though are the ones coiled up in my head that throb with the worst of migraines and headaches any single soul could imagine. When any of my grades fall below an A, I'm suddenly Hitler's Jewish best friend. He hates me, but he can't kill me because of what I mean to him.

Those are the only two 'bad' things I can think of. Now, here's some praise for my dearest… 'daddy'…

I was just a stranger to him when we agreed to let me live in his home. I was nothing but a broken heart who he agreed to save. He had never before known my face, never before learnt my name nor had he ever exchanged a single word with me… When he heard my heartbroken sobs, he gained his guardian angel wings and took me into a place where I'd have a chance to be safe from all things that could ever possibly harm me.

Without his black cape, Bruce has the best smile the world has yet to be aware of. No matter how bad I want to run away and rejoin the circus, all he has to do is smirk at me with his arms over his chest, giving me that "you don't have the balls!" look and I cave in. I do have the balls, but where would I go? Wally wouldn't let me live with him and I'm pretty sure the old trailer was repainted by now. I definitely don't want to risk an orphanage stay. After watching Annie, I've been scarred. The thought of having to sing every day with a bunch of dirty kids doesn't appeal to me in the slightest.

On those rare nights he actually _is _home, he acts just like a regular father. I'll walk in and he'll be reading the paper. He'll calmly fold it, set it down and ask about my day, seriously interested in what happened in the part of my life spent with my eyes shown to the world. When I ask for space, he gives it; when I want company, he's there. If at dinner, I want to sit by him and talk like a chick would do, he's at my side and listening in a moment.

Most dads are either heavy alcoholics, abusive or just don't care in the slightest, but Bruce isn't an average dad. I've only seen him touch alcohol _once_ and that was at some office party; it was only wine too so I imagine his drinking days are past. As shy as he is, Bruce has never laid a harmful finger on me _intentionally_ and I doubt he ever will if he's in the right state of mind. He always cares, between the hatred in his eyes or the swelling of pride in his heart that pokes out like a boner through his shirt. (_Just kidding on the boner part. That'd be pretty nasty. Having a chest dick? Where would it even come out? Would it be like, right over your heart? Out of your belly button?)_

See? Told you I'd end on a happy note.

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><p><strong>What's next?<strong>

**-F.J. **


	5. Habits

**Look up Malchik Gay- boy version. I recently found that song (on a KF/Rob vid because I'm catching up on my YJ before March 3rd!) and I fell in love! Unhappy Valentines Day, loves! If you don't have a valentine, I'll be yours~ I don't have one either… **

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Habits<strong>

I know, this is kind of a stupid chapter, but next is my daddy's history so keep your pants on and read this to kill time. I just figured that I had to prove Batman and Bruce were both human in a manner (at which you point out that robots can be programmed to do things every 20 seconds or so for a habit or quirk in which case I recommend you STFU). This chapter is just of the little things he does that I notice. There's probably more, but he's just my dad. I don't watch him with creeper eyes like the rest of you. Yeah, that's right, I notice your stares.

It's disturbing. Please stop. Save your dreamy stares for us younger boys (and girls!) in our _tight _clothing~!

Batman 

There are a million or so habits he has, but I don't know what all you classify as a habit. In my case, I consider my inability to go a minute or so without glancing over at Kid Doofus to make sure he hasn't killed something yet a habit, but most of you probably consider that proof that we should be together forever and always (at this point, I disgustedly roll my eyes and pretend that I haven't curiously Googled the fanart and nearly gotten sick over it).

I had to use urban dictionary to see what you people consider a habit, but as expected, it was no help at all so I'm just going with it and hoping that I'm using _your _kind of habit.

_Pacing_. Batman is a notorious pacer. He's not a think pacer though. No, his precious footsteps wouldn't be wasted on invaluable thoughts that he could whip up in a second or less. I'm not sure why he paces. I'm pretty sure it's just a habit he got used to doing to make it look like he was thinking to build up tension to make his words just that much more intimidating. All he has to do is look at someone though and they've intimidated in their pants, if you get what I'm hinting at.

_Getting lost in thought_, otherwise known as day dreaming. You wouldn't notice because you can't see my dearest daddy's eyes and where he's glaring when he is due to limited range cameras, but I notice. Often times when he's glaring, he's just thinking hard on something from earlier and he's in a great mood. Don't ever just assume Batman's an angry puissance [force]! He's actually pretty nice-… when you're on his… good side… which is impossible… to get on…

_Popping his knuckles_. He tends not to do it around the team, but when it's just me and him out on Gotham watch, he'll always have his hands close, popping every finger until it gives off this disgusting crack that makes me want to lose whatever food Alfred packed for us, no matter how delicious it was. If I wanted more, all I'd have to do is ask… I love that old dude… You think your grandpa is cool? Can he ride a motorcycle at 80 miles per hour to bring you your utility belt because you forgot it? Well… Alfred can't either so… (: Maybe your grandpa is cool. Tell him hi for me. If he's dead, I know the feeling, so hug his grave for me.

Bruce

Now, don't go yelling at me for short-changing you on Batman up there. This is _habits_, not voice patterns and reactions or fears or whatever. Bruce has a bit more so I feel you'll be pleased with his part.

_Smoothing his hair_. This is my least favorite of his habits, even below popping his knuckles. I hate when people smooth their hair. I'm fine with flipping, pushing it back so you can see and stuff like that, but running a hand over it to slick it back or whatever reason just annoys me. And he does it a lot. He'll just be sitting there, reading the paper when out of the blue, he does it! Agh, I HATE IT! DX (That's an angry screaming face, not an abbreviation).

_Reorganizing. _Every time I see Bruce's office in Wayne Tech (once a week because Alfred can't pick me up from Mathlete practice after school on Tuesdays), everything's moved! One second, our family picture is in the left corner next to his golden statue that resembles Alfred and his lamp and computer monitor are in the middle, his pen case to the right side next to his work pile and the next, it's all opposite! So when Johnson asks me where Bruce left the keys to the work room, I have to go look for myself instead of just telling him.

_Reaching for the utility belt_. Even I do this, so when I see Bruce unconsciously reach down to his waist to grab a batbomb or something similar only to find that his hands passed through dead space, I completely understand. After an exhausting day of fighting, you just get used to reaching down and picking up something and flinging it without thinking. Like the famous shooting saying, we grab first and ask questions later. We aren't responsible for any eyes lost after you sneak up on us, especially if you're a douche.

_Glancing out the window every few seconds. _I do it too, even at school. I make it a big deal that I have to sit by the window because even in the middle of the day, the commissioner will shine that big light up into the sky and Bruce and I will have to make up some excuse and haul some serious balls, which means we're practically flying. I've only been called once or twice out of school; both times Batman was out in front of the school for me in a second.

_Reaching to adjust his gloves_. Similar to the belt, Batman and I have gotten used to wearing gloves all the time. My gloves fit just right because of those cool straps on the back, but Batman has Wally gloves which means they never stay. They always slide down and he has to adjust them. I keep telling him to get the straps on his too, but apparently image is everything and he doesn't want to match my costume any more than he has to.

_Humming instrumentals under his breath_. A lot of people hum under the breath as they tap their fingers, amusing themselves in the simplest way they know how. They hum actual songs though that play on the radio; Bruce hums the parts in the songs that don't have words. He'll hum piano sheets worth of music, his fingers lightly ghosting across the table top as if it was nothing more than a set of piano keys.

I hope you're satisfied to this stalker's guide… Go on, impersonate him. I can see right through your filthy lies if you do. And now, for the history section of this textbook.

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><p><strong>I have an idea for a fic… where Rob's in school and the Bat Signal goes off. Use it if you want (: Review!<strong>

**-F.J. **


	6. History

**This chapter is dedicated to Jacob Daniel Blegen, my first boyfriend to ever walk this planet. I gave you a valentine today and you got this big teary eyed smiley face and you hugged me without warning… and my heart started again. I know, I'm just a mess over who I like, but thank you, my love, for making me believe in Valentines Day again. My stupid boyfriend didn't even acknowledge me… but you hugged me… Maybe I should try heavy flirting with you. Let's drive you crazy. Use your Tai Kwan Do skills and kick Chris's ass for me? Then I can love you forever… unless you're pulling a Sam and teasing me… **

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: History<strong>

Sit down boys and girls and open your notebooks to a fresh page. Make sure your pencils are sharpened because this will be a long and confusing chapter and I guarantee that you'll take up a few pages, even little Nathan in the back who can fit three lines of words inside every line on the page. Don't slack off because this chapter is difficult to understand and if you don't give it your best attention, I promise you that you'll fail this lesson. An F on this can drop your C to an F. Yes, I'm talking to you Dominic! Your mother wouldn't appreciate another F, now would she?

I suppose you could abbreviate if you want to save paper, but make sure you understand your notes. You can't just refer to back to the textbook on the test. No Susie, you can't use your notes on the test either. _We're taking them _so you can study them the night before. I don't care that your wrestling meet is that night Brock! You can study in the morning or before this class. It's 4th hour- lucky for you. There's three hours to study! Now, let's start at the beginning, nice and slow. _Mason, I swear to God, if you don't stop saying "giggity", I will __kill __you. Got it?_

The Story of the Bat

If you'll believe it, this story starts out like every other average story: with a little boy with a million dreams and wide hopeful eyes. He probably had a sweet little smile and rosy cheeks, teetering on his toes with every innocently asked question. His hair was probably combed back when he had on his little tuxedo with the crooked black tie that his dad always had to tie when they went out for church on Sunday mornings and for the theatre visits that came once a month that he always looked forward to.

Bruce hates to talk about it, but one afternoon that was in the few weeks I was still hung up over my parents, he explained it all to me in a few minutes. A few nights after that, Alfred sat down with me at dinner and explained what he knew in a bit more depth. That was four years ago, almost five with the anniversary coming up in a few weeks, so… don't blame me… if I'm a little… inaccurate. Damnit, now my mind's on the folks again… Ignore my sad tone/type as I spin you this tale and feel depressed with me.

I imagine it was a fine day outside, back in the times when men could walk about freely in public in tuxedos with a woman in a pantsuit on their arm without seeming weird in the slightest. It had been one of those rare days that Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, the real names of which have long slipped my mind, decided to take their only son out to the theatre to see what was playing.

Bruce had been little, but not little enough that he didn't know how the world went. He was old enough to see past the fairytale lie, but young enough to still be as hopeful and optimistic about the limits that the sky would try to set for him. He had been as excited as they'd let him, practically bouncing off the walls of the concrete buildings around as he tugged roughly on his dearest mommy and daddy's hands to hurry them along down the sidewalk.

He had probably been giggling, so amused from seeing the film, his heart racing as wild as if he was just done from eating a whole bucket of Halloween sweets. His mother was probably laughing at his enthusiasm, struggling to keep after him in her high heels while holding tight to her husband's arm, her eyes sparkling at the deep laughter spilling over her husband's lips. They were probably rushing home for a family dinner where the film would be discussed with bright hearts and enthusiastic grins at ever word.

On the way, a man with a gun confronted Bruce's parents. He demanded to have Mrs. Wayne's pearls, holding them at gun point. Mr. Wayne, probably trying to seem like a hero in front of his wife and only son, stood in front of his family with his arms out, refusing to hand anything over. It was his family after all; they deserved nothing short of the very best. The gun man wasn't worried though. He simply pulled the trigger, his ice cold and silent with the kind of insanity that lets you simply take lives without caring.

Mr. Wayne was down in an instant, his iconic hat on the ground beside his bloody chest while the color drained from his eyes. Mrs. Wayne and Bruce were at his side in an instant, screaming and sobbing hysterically. The gun man held the gun up even longer, demanding to have the pearls again. Bruce tried to play hero, standing in front of his kneeling mother with sobs shaking his body, growling up at the man like he imagined his father would've wanted him to do.

The gun man simply kicked him away, an old fashioned dress shoe launching itself deep into his stomach and throwing him out into the middle of the street where he lay paralyzed in agony, hugging himself and sobbing fearfully. He screamed for his mother, begging her to run, but a bullet suddenly lodged itself deep into her skull, ruining her old and perfect face. She joined her husband on the street, blood gathering all around them in the gravel.

Try to hear Bruce's terrified shrieks and sobs of pure pain as he tore up off the ground, tears raining down his cheeks, ruining a previously happy night. Can you see him run across the road, stopping at his parents' bodies and screaming in both pain and fear at the realization that now he had no parents? Can you imagine how bad it hurt to realize that now he was going to be a freak, forever outcast because he had no mother to kiss him goodnight and no father to teach him how to shave? I can, but I'm not you.

Then imagine his face contort in anger, the first appearance of his 'Batman' face, his teeth bared and his eyes slowly staining to a dark red, tears scarring his cheeks. Can you see him leap over their bodies, tackling the man to the ground and murderously beating his fists against the man's chest? Try to picture a little boy, ripping an armed gun from his parents' murderer's hands, and bring the butt down violently onto his face once before he was kicked away to the ground.

Can you see the murderer getting to his feet and running, leaving the bruised little boy with his parents' bodies and the gun that killed them without anyway of him calling for help? Listen to the broken sobs that are holding Bruce's body to the sidewalk, curled up beside the two corpses that scar him for the rest of his life. That's how it all started.

From there, Bruce dedicated the rest of his life to revenge. All he thought about; through every dinner Alfred and the rest of the help for the Wayne family cooked him, through every day of school he had to suffer through as an orphan with every meal brought in and every tuxedo more expensive than any others, through every friend he never had because all his time was dedicated to tracking the son of a bitch who ruined him, through every year of college that he went through without having to get a job to pay for himself… it was all set on avenging the only people he'd ever truly loved.

From there, you get the idea right? Some gun toting bastard shot his parents which, over a great deal of time, turned an orphan into a superhero.

It had a lot of bad side-effects though. Like, Bruce's irrational phobia of guns (please note that phobia can also mean extreme hatred) and Bruce's care level when it comes to kids losing parents in a way similar to his. It also turned him cold, severed his laugh box, darkened his smiles and broke his heart. He could never trust another living and breathing soul again… except for Alfred and I…

The only two good things I can see from it all… has to be the fact that now the world has Batman to look to when their worst nightmares spring to life… and the fact that I'm not in the corner of a dirty house, covered in bloody bruises and screaming because my foster parents who beat me night and day while they're drunk off their ass only love me for the money they get for keeping me…

And that's why Batman's such a 'heartless asshole'. Now think twice before you insult one of Gotham City's- no, one of _America's _greatest heroes.

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><p><strong>Grim… So I have a few fics planned for tomorrow. What should I do next? Is there anything left to cover besides his relationships? Oooh~ Who all should be there? Just the YJ Bat Family? His parents too? The Graysons? I'm excited! Review?<strong>

**-F.J. **


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